Holding Onto Nothing
by wheninriverdale
Summary: One late night while Jughead's working in the town library he's putting away an old worn out book when he sees the glinting of silver sticking out between torn pages. Tucked away inside he finds an old charm bracelet. Can he help its owner Betty Cooper - who's been dead for 50 years solve the mystery behind her death or will he follow the same fate as her own?


It was another late night at the library, as Jughead spent his time organizing the books and returning them to their rightful places on the shelves. The day had been chaotic and it seemed like at one point or another everyone from town had set foot in the palace of books. Jughead didn't mind the busyness he just hated the mess that he had to clean up after.

Before turning down the next aisle of fiction, Jughead pulled the Walkman from his pocket and switched over to the next song on the CD he was playing. He nodded his head along to the beginning chords and made his way down the next aisle of fiction, pausing to place a morbidly worn and weathered copy of _The Great Gatsby_ by F. Scott Fitzgerald on the shelf. If he hadn't noticed the glint of silver that seemingly poked out from within the pages, he would have never thought anything of the old book itself.

"Hmm…interesting." Jughead whispered to himself in the now empty library. Retrieving the book back from the shelf he propped it open to reveal a silver charm bracelet.

He fell back towards a table between the two aisles and settled into one of the wooden chairs. Setting the bracelet on the hardwood surface, Jughead was able to examine the piece of jewelry a little more clearly. The bracelet had a number of charms including a ballerina dancer, an airplane with a spinning propeller, a compass and an hourglass among plenty of others. The trinkets were small, barely larger than the size of his fingernails, but the detail in each piece left Jughead taken away by the craftsmanship that went into each and every charm. Figuring that whoever the bracelet had belonged to was probably missing it, Jughead headed back to the front desk to check the records of who had returned a copy of _The Great Gatsby_ earlier that afternoon.

As Jughead rifled through the place cards, he had no luck. There was no copy of the book checked out or returned within the last week. Perplexed, Jughead thumbed his way through the pages, noticing a set of initials, _E. C.,_ penned into the top right corner of the title page. Underneath the name was a date marked October 12, 1944.

"What the-" Jughead whispered again. Tearing his attention from the book, he looked to the calendar on the wall behind him. "Strange. Very strange." He said, wondering what the odds were that he'd find this book exactly 50 years later, on the anniversary of the date scribbled on the yellowing page.

Jughead pocketed both the charm bracelet and the book and decided to call it a night. No doubt the return cart full of books would be right where he'd left it the next morning, Jughead's stomach was churning, and it wasn't just because he was hungry.

Making sure to shut off all the lights, Jughead locked up shop for the night and headed towards the only place still open in town – Pop Tate's Choc'late shop.

"Good Evening Jughead," Pop greeted him at the counter, throwing the rag he had in his hand over his shoulder and propping his elbows on the linoleum counter between them.

"Hey Pop, how's it going?" Jughead glanced around him. The diner was almost deserted except for the few exceptional booths full of straggling teens or truck drivers on a quick rest stop before passing on through their sleepy little town.

Pop filled a glass with Coca-Cola, knowing it was Jughead's favorite before meandering his way back into the kitchen and turning the fryer on high. "Oh you know, just trying to stay busy. Not many people come by after dark, except for the usual few." Jughead swore Pop had a small twinkle in his eye when he said the last few words.

"Glad I can come and help cancel out the overhead costs of running this place 24 hours a day." Jughead smirked and took a sip of his pop. The sweet liquid tickled his taste buds and his stomach grumbled in happy delight. It'd been almost three hours since he ate dinner and Jughead was practically ravenous.

Pop laughed as a he slapped a patty down onto the grill. "Thanks for your support Jug. You're here a little earlier than usual. Bad day at the library?"

Jughead shrugged and removed his lips from the plastic straw. "Not bad, just a bit busier than usual." With his mind returning back to the book in his pocket, Jughead chose to risk it and ask Pop if he recognized the initials labeled inside the cover. After all, Pop was the heart and soul of Riverdale, maybe there was a chance he would know.

"Hey Pop, do you know of anyone with the initials E. C.? I found a book today that's not property of the library, and those initial are the only sort of significance I could find inside it." Jughead decided it was best to leave the bracelet out of the discussion. He didn't know what it was, but a strange warmth radiated from the small charms, and Jughead wasn't ready to let his little finding out in the open just yet.

Jughead heard a patty flip from the kitchen, recognizing the familiar sizzle of the juices soaking up the greasy residue. His stomach overturned, he was so hungry. "Male or female?" Pop asked.

"I'm thinking a female, by the look of the writing."

A few moments later, Pop returned from the kitchen with a cheeseburger and a basket of fries, sliding the plate in front of Jughead. "Don't think I can be of much help there, sorry Jughead. You work at the library, take a look through the town archives and see if anything pops out at you. That may be a start."

Already chewing on a mouthful of savory bun, cheese, and beef Jughead just nodded, wondering why he didn't think of that in the first place. Once he was able to swallow, Jughead wiped his mouth on this sleeve and thanked Pop for the idea. "You're a genius Pop."

Pop just chuckled and returned to wiping off the counter. "I wouldn't go that far Jughead." He said.

"Ok maybe not, but definitely a culinary genius. This food is to die for."

"Thanks Jughead." Pop said and turned his back, allowing Jughead to enjoy his second dinner in peace.

Once Jughead was finished he left his money on the counter along with a generous tip and bid goodbye to Pop, promising to see him the following evening after another long day of dusty shelves and the Dewey Decimal System.

Jughead didn't notice the rain that had started to fall while he had sat in Pop's. He transferred the book from the back pocket of his jeans to the inside breast pocket of his jacket and held the jean fabric to him a little tighter as he made his way home in the rain. He was so rattled from his discoveries today that he was oblivious to the fact the rain was only falling around him and nowhere else. As if he had his own little rain cloud to follow him home.

Jughead stepped over the threshold into his tiny one bedroom apartment. Shaking like a dog from the cold and the rain outside, he placed his old wool beanie on the table near the door, kicked off his combat boots and shrugged out of his sopping jean jacket making sure to grab the book from its pocket. A few steps later Jughead fell into the hole that was his living room couch and reached for the lamp beside it, turning on the light and wrapping a crocheted blanket around his shoulders. From his pocket he pulled out the bracelet, twirling the silver chain around his fingers absentmindedly.

After further examination of the jewelry, he noticed a singular charm inscribed with the same initials from the book. The letters E. C. were surrounded by a heart. "E. C.," He repeated to himself, trying to think of possible names it could be.

Maybe Edith, Eleanor or Eloise? Or perhaps Emily, Emma or Esther? His curiosity was beginning to get the better of him, and he even considered sneaking back into the library to look up old editorials from the year dated in the book. There had to be something about E. C. somewhere.

Giving up for the night, Jughead decided it was probably a good idea to turn in and head to bed.

The next morning came after a dead, dreamless sleep. Wiping the weariness from his eyes, Jughead rolled over in bed groggily before adjusting to the world around him. He heard music. Soft and low, maybe from the mid-fifties he guessed – he wasn't sure. He assumed it was his old neighbor Mr. Clayborn who lived across the hall, but the more he listened he could've sworn it was coming from just outside his bedroom door.

' _If you call I'll hear you, no matter how far  
Just close your eyes and I'll be there'_

Jughead stepped out of bed and made his way carefully towards the door. The music was eerie and slow, reminding him of the old Disney movie Peter Pan. The oohs and the ahhs from the background singers gave off a " _The Second Star to the Right_ " sort of vibe. Itching with curiosity Jughead walked out into the living room, his heart momentarily stopping at the sight before him.

Standing there, swaying to the music playing from his boom box was a strikingly beautiful blonde girl. She wore a high collared pale pink sweater and a deep white ankle length skirt to match. Panic stricken, Jughead didn't know what to do.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, taking another step into the room he grabbed the first item he could reach to defend himself in case the girl may have been dangerous. All he had to protect himself was the TV antenna.

The girl continued to dance along to the music as if he weren't there standing behind her, talking to her back. The music played on still.

' _Please walk alone and send your love and your kisses to guide me  
Till you're walking beside me, I'll walk alone'_

"Hello? Hey girly!" The blonde jumped and spun around to face Jughead. She gave him a confused look. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The girl carefully tiptoed a few steps toward him, closing the space between them. There she stood in front of his face, waving her hand just so, as if she were about to ask him how many fingers she was holding up.

Jughead swatted her hand away and glared at her. "Ever heard of personal space? Who. The hell. Are you?" he spat, still clutching the antenna in his right hand beside his hip, waiting and ready if he needed to strike at any moment.

The girl hopped back in fright, grasping her hand to her chest. "You can see me?" She asked, biting her lip fearfully.

"Uh yeah I can. What are you doing in my living room?" Jughead slipped by her and pressed the button on his stereo to turn off the spine tingling music.

The girl glanced around the room in skepticism. "But how?" she whispered. Jughead watched her gaze as it traveled around him, finally settling on the coffee table where he'd left the bracelet and the book from the night before. "You found my bracelet!" she exclaimed.

Jughead stood rooted to the spot, frozen in fear. "T-that's your br-bracelet? Y-you're E. C.?" he choked out as the girl scampered over to the table and sliding the piece of jewelry rightfully onto her wrist.

"Yes. Elizabeth Cooper is my full name. I can't believe you found this! I can't believe you can see me!" Her eyes were as wide as a deer in headlights.

Jughead scratched the top of his head in worry and turned his back on the girl, Elizabeth, heading for the kitchen. "I need to eat something," he said to himself. "I think I'm hallucinating."

He pilfered around in the kitchen, grabbing the makings for a bowl of cereal. He poured the milk into his Coco Puffs and waited as the milk turned from regular to chocolatey within seconds. Just as he took the first bite he heard her silky voice from behind him. "What's a Coco Puff?"

The spoon fell with a clatter back into the bowl, haphazardly spilling milk onto the table. "Don't fucking sneak up on me like that!" Jughead warned her, spinning around so fast in his chair his head was dizzy. "Why are you here? How are you here?"

Elizabeth looked to the chair beside him and nodded to it, silently asking for his approval to sit down. Jughead lifted his hand in a gesture as if to say yes while nodding his head. There, Elizabeth slid into the seat and leaned her elbow on the table, watching Jughead with pure adoration on her face. "I think that somehow when you found my bracelet, that it gave you the ability to see me." She moved to clasp her hands together on the table, now staring at the wall. "No one else has ever noticed me before now."

Jughead took another bite of cereal and wiped at the milk that seeped from the corner of his lips. He had a feeling he already knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. "And why is it that no one can see you, Elizabeth?"

Glancing away from the wall, she turned her head to meet his gaze. For the first time really looking at her, Jughead noticed that her eyes were a deep cerulean blue – his favorite crayon color. And her lips looked so soft - like little pink rose petals. Shaking the thoughts of her beauty from his mind, Jughead waited for her to answer, taking another bite as she paused.

"What's your name?" She asked instead, throwing him off guard.

"J-Jughead." He replied between chews.

A sickly sweet giggle escaped those rose petal lips. "Well you see Jughead, nobody can see me because I'm dead."

Elizabeth spoke of her death the way a normal person talked about their day or the weather outside. As if it wasn't abnormal for her to be dead, or to be dancing around a stranger's home to a song Jughead figured was as dead as the girl sitting beside him.

He continued to chew, letting the chocolate melt on the tip of his tongue as he pondered about what to say next. "Well, you've found your bracelet. You can go now." He grabbed the bowl between his hands and lifted the rim to his lips to drink the milk that remained. Elizabeth watched in awe, a little grossed out but fairly impressed.

"No, I can't." Her voice was so firm it rattled Jughead to his core.

"Yes you can." Jughead stood up and placed the bowl in the sink, running the water to rinse it out. "The door is right there." He pointed to the door that was still chain locked and dead bolted the way he left it the night before. "Don't let it hit you on the way out."

Elizabeth got to her feet and walked over to stand in front of Jughead, forcing him back against the counter top. "You don't understand. You found my bracelet for a reason. You have to help me!"

Jughead pushed past her and made his way into the living room and down the hall, wondering how for a ghost she could be so… so solid. He turned into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, making sure to click the lock as well. He could sense Elizabeth's presence on the other side of the door. "Go away Cooper, I'm not helping you." Jughead said, unzipping his pants, ready to take a leak.

"B-but if you don't, I'll never pass on. And I need to pass on. Everybody's waiting for me." Elizabeth cried from the other side of the door. Jughead heard the handled quake as she tried to force her way in.

"You've got the wrong guy, Lizzie. Find someone else to help you." Jughead flushed the toilet and began to wash his hands and brush his teeth. In the mirror he stilled mid-brush as saw Elizabeth's form melt through the doorway out of his peripherals. What worried him more was that she had no reflection in the mirror. "What the fuck."

"Don't call me Lizzie. If Elizabeth is too much for you to handle, call me Betty instead." She leaned against the counter to his side, unfazed by Jughead's shock at her ability to travel through walls and doors. "No one else can help me Jug, there's only you."

With his tooth brush dangerously dangling from the side of his mouth Jughead spoke. "How did you do that!?"

"I'm a ghost, duh." She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side. "Please help me Jughead. The sooner you help me, the sooner I can leave this place and go where I'm meant to be."

After regaining control of his breath, Jughead finished brushing his teeth and gargling mouth wash before deciding to speak again. Reaching for the towel hanging besides the mirror, he wiped his mouth and stared point blank at Betty's pouty lips and puppy eyes. "You promise if I help you, that you'll leave? And that you won't walk through doors and shit anymore? Because that's fucking terrifying." He said.

Betty clapped her hands and squealed in delight. "I promise!" She lunged at Jughead and forced him into a hug, somehow solid once more. Hugging her was like hugging a bag of ice, and Jughead kept his arms stock straight as his sides. "You won't regret this Jughead. I pinky promise."

Once Betty let go of him, Jughead was able to feel the heat resurface to the areas where Betty touched him. Why was it that everything strange that happened in the world, had to happen to him?


End file.
